Dr Love
by kutnerlove
Summary: Wilson is tired of his best friend and lover, one Greg House, being so cold and decides to do something about it.


Doctor Love

James Wilson was tired of his best friend and lover being so cold and emotionally detached from life, so he decided to do something about it. Greg House, M.D., the well-known diagnostician was about to get the wake-up call of his life, Wilson had determined. He carefully went over details during his breaks from patients and sporadic visits from House, which thankfully had been few and far between for a few days as he was working on a case that was pushing him to the limits, but which Wilson knew he would be able to crack.

Once the plans were carved out and polished to perfection, Wilson put his idea into action. He made several phone calls and pulled more than a few strings to get everything perfect the way he wanted it, then sat back in his plush office and waited for the weekend to come. By Thursday House had figured out the cause of his patient's illness and the 43 year old soccer mom was on the road to recovery, which miraculously put House into a terrible mood. Wilson knew the part of cases that should make good doctors happy, the recovery phase, was actually House's least favorite. After he had worked his puzzle, House was presented with the choice of taking the time to get to know and care about the person whom he had saved or to move on to the next puzzle; House always chose the latter.

With the puzzle solved, Wilson was House's main source of entertainment and even though the two had been in an established relationship for more than 4 months, House found it hugely amusing to try to rattle his lover. The diagnostician had planted several traps for his mate all over Princeton Plainsboro Teaching Hospital, most of which Wilson fell victim to. Disgruntled though he was by having lime jello falling all over his Armani suit, Wilson had to smile thinking about what House was going to feel after the weekend was over. He could only hope that his snarky colleague would disappear and the saucy but sweet man he loved would be left to enjoy the fruits of his labor.

Finally Saturday morning arrived; Wilson had stayed awake all night in preparation for the phone call from House that signaled that the package had been received. Wilson had decided that it was better to lure House into a more private setting with expensive gifts than to propose a surprise meeting in the woods out of the blues. Lately House had slacked off of the private investigator usage, but any surprises would bring the young man back into the background of all weekend events, which Wilson was vehemently opposed to.

At promptly 10:00 am as if on cue Wilson's phone rang. "Hello, there," he answered after a few rings.

The voice on the other end of the line was suspicious; "Hello, darling. What merits the lovely package that was just delivered to my door?"  
"Nothing, House. Can't a guy just do something nice for the person that he loves more than anything in the world?"

"You haven't gotten me anything unprompted in at least 2 months. What's with the newfound generosity?" The diagnostician asked.

"That's the point. You've been pretty good and I figured I'd reward you. It's a form of psychology used to promote wanted behavior in some cultures."

"What cultures are those?" House demanded.

"Would you please just accept the gift and go on with life?" Wilson countered exasperatedly. He knew that House would be difficult to woo as it had taken several years of friendship to convince him to try dating, but the exasperation was completely real. There was a pause and then a grunt of acceptance. Wilson sighed, pleased that House had taken the bait.

"Are we still going to dinner tonight?" House asked.

"Yea. Where do you want to go?" Wilson asked.

"Surprise me."

"Really? You want a surprise?"  
"Why not? I guess it's not a huge deal. I mean, I'm not some kind of control freak, obsessed with details; oh wait, that's you, isn't it?"

"House, do you want me to pay for your meal? If so just let me deal with the details without comment."

"Fine, ruin my fun. Santa's gonna bring you coal for Christmas." Wilson could almost see the sneer on House's face through the phone.

"I'm going to make dinner reservations, House. Have fun with your new toy." Wilson knew better than to prolong the conversation so a short 'bye' was quickly followed by a click. He heaved a sigh of relief after settling the phone back on the cradle. The romantic time with House idea seemed to be going fairly smoothly, for which he was extremely grateful. The final stages would be played out later that evening at dinner, for which Wilson already had reservations, and would determine the mood of the entire rest of the weekend where House was concerned. Wilson decided to take a short nap before getting ready for his date and after a long night of planning and stressing over the possibilities of things that could go wrong, Wilson needed a rest, so he stripped down to his boxers and climbed in bed.

When Wilson awakened he realized that he had less than an hour to get ready for his dinner with House. He jumped in the shower and quickly washed his chestnut colored hair. He blow-dried his tresses and dressed carefully, taking the time to perfect the tie he had laid out the previous evening. He grabbed his keys and wallet and was out the door with exactly 10 minutes to swing by House's apartment and arrive at the restaurant to meet his reservation.

House was waiting for him on the couch of his apartment with a bowl of popcorn in his hand and a beer in his hand. Wilson restrained himself when the urge to tidy up hit him like a wave upon entering the room and instead settled for looking his lover over. "You ready?" he asked after a moment. House looked up and studies his face for a few seconds before standing up silently and following him down to his car.

Wilson couldn't help but notice the almost docile actions of his other half. House was not submissive in any sense, even when he was in pain so strong any other man would have cried and it was curious that he was complying with what Wilson wanted without so much as a question. The oncologist was reluctant to ruin the evening with questions that could be answered later, however; and let the actions of the diagnostician slide.

They pulled up in front of the restaurant which was very suave and new and both men got out, straightening themselves. Wilson looked House over out of the corner of his eye as he straightened his tie again. "You ready to go in?" House asked, catching his glance.

"Yes. Let's go." The two walked into the building and Wilson greeted the Maître di courteously. They were seated promptly and the waiter took their order for fine white wine. Wilson settled in as soon as the waiter left them alone and cautiously studied his best friend. The obligatory demeanor and compliance was not at all like House and he couldn't contain his curiosity any longer. "What's up?"

"What do you mean 'what's up'?"

"You know what I mean. Why aren't you being difficult?"

"I can tell this means something to you, so I'm behaving. Every now and again I try it out just for kicks."

"Seriously, House," Wilson prompted.

"I am being serious. I have some morals and feelings, you know." He feigned annoyance at the question.

"Sorry. It's just…new."

"I know." The wine arrived in time to cut off further questioning from Wilson and House took the bottle and poured two glasses, handing one to Wilson. He raised his glass in toast, astonishing Wilson until he spoke. "To the fine things in life such as booze and sex."

"Very classy, House."

"I thought so." House downed a few glasses of the white wine while his partner watched, growing more annoyed that things weren't playing to his plans exactly. They ordered dinner and Wilson was almost sure that the evening was going to start plummeting downhill when House started running his tennis-shod foot up the insides of his mate's legs. Wilson was thoroughly horny by the time the food was brought to the table and all his plans for a fine dinner with House went out the window.

House, on the other hand, was perfectly content to eat calmly and slowly. Wilson knew that House must be ready to explode from the tension in the air, but he pretended that nothing at all bothered him as he consumed his fine meal of steak and a baked potato. Wilson, on the other hand, had a difficult time staying on his side of the table. The check finally came and Wilson was only too happy to pay for the meals and leave. He planned to ravage House the moment they were out of polite company, but House ever the opposition wanted to sit staring into his eyes sweetly across the table for half an hour.

When they stood to leave, Wilson cleared his throat, attempting to catch House's attention so he could pull the other man to the side and give him a sample of things to come, but the older doctor walked a few feet ahead of his dinner date. He pointed ignored Wilson's gestures and grunts and walked along admiring the artwork. The two walked out of the restaurant behind an elderly couple, thoroughly preventing Wilson from unleashing his pent up frustration until they were out of site.

The moment both men were seated in Wilson's Volvo, the oncologist turned to House and let a deep growl escape his throat. "Are you ok?" House feigned innocence.

"You know damned well that I am not ok."

"I didn't mean to ruin your night," House started insincerely, but Wilson cut him off with a passionate kiss.

"You did so," Wilson pointed out, "I had a great weekend planned, but you couldn't let me go through with it, even thought it would have been good for you too. You're now going to be my love slave for the next 30 hours or so. And there will be no excuses and no breaks," Wilson growled when House started to open his mouth. House only smiled in reply and Wilson guessed that this had been the other man's plan the entire time. He started the car and determined to make the best out of the situation and give House exactly what he wanted. Feeling would be brought out if Wilson had to drag it out, however.

The End

Frodis


End file.
